Empty mind
by Spock99
Summary: Professor Sprout talking to her House after Cedric's death.


**A/N**

**Written for QLFC season 7, Chaser1 of Falmouth Falcons**

**Prompts**: (Strength — Upright: Inner Strength, Bravery, Compassion, Focus,)

**Reversed: Self-Doubt, Weakness, Insecurity**

**Optional Prompts: **

**word - concrete**

**quote - "Once a future is foretold, that future becomes a living thing, and it will fight very hard to bring itself about" — Legendary, Stephanie Garber**

* * *

There is emptiness. Everywhere. In the hallways, on the school ground, and in my mind. The students seem to be in their respective common rooms, as there is no one wandering the halls. It is just half an hour after dinner. Normally the school is flooded with children at this time of the day, but not this evening. 

I meet nobody on my way to the portrait hole, the only living souls are a few cats stalking down the corridors, creeping from one shadowy corner to the next on their hunt for yummy mice. 

I don't know what will await me when I step into my house. Will they be in the common room or up in their dorms? Will I be confronted with the usual warmth and comfortable atmosphere, or will the room be dark and cool and full of sorrow? My brain tells me there will be a mix of both. I know my house and I know my students. The Hufflepuff common room is never cool, it is a bright room that invites everyone to stop by. A place full of jokes, friendship, and life. 

Normally it is. Today I take a deep breath and force myself to think logically. There won't be the usual carefree chatter, but grief and shock and emptiness in their hearts, like it is in mine. 

Yes, I have announced a full house meeting, but to be honest I can't think of something concrete to tell them. Everything I might have to say is already known widely or wouldn't be a relief for them. 

They saw Cedric's body the other day after all. I don't have to tell them that their friend and housemate is gone forever. I desperately want to tell them that he will come back, but I can't. I want to sooth their fears o dark times coming rapidly along the way, but I can't. 

The picture of my student lying there in the middle of the arena, his body cold and his eyes staring into the sky without that energetical spark, come to my mind. Then His father crosses my mind. He had been so excited when he learned his son had been elected to represent the school in the tournament. He had arrived for the first task, almost jumping for happiness, congratulating his son, telling him how proud he was. 

As Hufflepuff Head of House, it had been my duty to explain the risks to the poor man. At that time I did it without a single thought of those warnings becoming reality. Amos had made me smile throughout the whole meeting with his childlike excitement and his joyful eyes. I had been proud myself. One of my badgers! 

I am still proud of Cedric. As proud as I could ever be. He had enjoyed the tournament, even if he had feared the tasks. I feel that pride every time I think of him. But only seconds ago it is overwhelmed by the heavy blanket of sorrow. 

Lost in my thoughts I am not aware that I am standing in front of the common room already. Suddenly I feel like running. Running away from this hell. But I won't leave my children alone. Not now, not ever. 

I close my eyes and force my mind to exclude the memories of the past two days. Then I take a deep breath and walk straight ahead. The portrait swings open for me without a password and the Hufflepuff common room lies before me in all its glory. 

They are all here. First to seventh years. Huddled together in the middle of the room around the fireplace. When I enter, their eyes find me as if they were a single being. I realize now, they have been waiting for me to enter. Most likely they have sat here for five minutes before the announced time. 

In fact, the big clock above the stairs opposite the entrance tells me I am late. Almost five minutes. My thoughts seem to have occupied me for longer than I thought. 

I throw a small smile in their direction and let my gaze wander over their faces. Cedric's close friends are pale with dark rings under their red eyes. Not much change here. I have spent the night after his death comforting them. All the little badgers are quiet, and their faces don't wear the carefree expressions I love to see. No, today it looks like most of them has finally realized that the events of two days ago are real. 

The first and second years are scared a great part of them is new to the wizarding world, and don't know much about the tournament itself. Only the stories from their housemates and the bit of explanation from the ministry or their parents. 

Once again, I am relieved that I have decided to exclude the first two years from attending the tasks. Now they know Cedric died, they know it was in the third task and they know that it was a terrible accident. They mourn a role model and a boy who helped them with homework of personal problems, but they don't see his body in their minds every time they close their eyes. 

The older have seen it all. I am sorry for it. But I can't change it. Somewhere in the codex of Hogwarts, it is said that the Head of House shall protect his or her entrusted students from all harm. I know I couldn't have helped Cedric, but I feel like I have failed my house. I was blinded by the excitement of the tournament. I fell like I have failed the rest of my house, too. Right now, I am again standing before them, struggling to show them some sort of strength, but instead, I am doubting my abilities. 

I must tell them something. Something to hold on to. Perhaps I should start with a greeting? I look directly at the first row of students who are sitting on the fluffy carpet to my feet. 

"Good evening to you all." My voice is quiet, raspy. That isn't the start I'd liked. The children look at me with huge eyes, awaiting who-knows-what. But what can I tell them? 

"in two days, you will travel home to your families." I hear myself say. That much is obvious. Now I must tell them of the commemoration. I catch my fingers as they fidget with the hem of my right sleeve before I start talking again. 

"There will be a commemoration held for Cedric," my voice cracks at his name. I can't even speak the name of my deceased badger. I should have written down and practiced what I wanted to say. 

But I am not the only one who is pained by the sound of his name. His friends are fighting with their tears. I can see their glassy eyes and the trembling breaths they take. Breathing seems like a good idea, so I take a deep breath to calm my nerves. 

"None of you has to attend, but all of you are invited to do so." Now it is out. Some of the pressure on my chest disappears. I still can't think of anything else to tell them, but my most important information is delivered. 

"I want you to know, that my door is always open to you all. Don't swallow your grief, talk to someone, especially those of you who were close to – him." I can't bring myself to say his name again. 

The picture of Cedric's lifeless body comes once again to the front of my mind and suddenly I want to flee. Escape from the place he has lived in for several years. I force a smile on my lips, and nod to them, look into their eyes as if I knew everything will be alright. Then I turn around to walk out of the portrait. I am almost there when a quiet, thin voice stops me. 

"Professor Sprout?" It is a male voice. None of the higher years, for his voice has not broken yet. 

I curl my hands into fists, perhaps to give myself some strength. It doesn't work. Slowly I turn around again to face the little boy. I know immediately who has spoken because the child is standing in front of the group. He looks so small, so lost. On the floor where he had been sitting, lies a stuffed bear. 

His little arms are hanging by his sides and his eyes are glued to my face. He looks at me like I am stronger than his bear. I should be, but I don't feel strong now, quite the opposite is the case. 

"Yes?" I answer him. He bites his lower lip and then the words rush out of his mouth so that I can hardly understand them. 

"One of the boys from Durmstrang said, it was Ced's destiny to die, and that war is coming, and…and" here a little sob escapes him, and my heart goes out to him. I grab my wand, and the magic rushing through it calms me a bit. His next words destroy the little safety I feel thorough. 

"…and that all our fates are written down in advance…and" Suddenly my feet are moving. I stop in front of the little boy and place my hands on his shoulders. 

"Don't!" I say. The single word is louder than everything I have said before. "Don't continue, Mr. Hidges! 

I loosen my hold on him and look at al my Hufflepuffs. 

"I don't want you thinking about what happens tomorrow or the day after or next year or in seven years." Where did that come from? I don't have a concrete plan, but the words are coming out of my mouth on their own. 

"I want you to live your life day after day and worry about the things when they come. Once a future is foretold, that future becomes a living thing, and it will fight very hard to bring itself about, but you should not dwell on what will be." 

"But…" his little voice interrupts me, and I look down to the boy. Then I hold up a hand and begin again.  
"We can't tell what the future brings. But if we waste our time thinking about the most terrible things that could happen, they will. I know you are sad and scared right now but please use your holidays to spend time with your loved ones, to explore, to do the things you like." 

What now? Somewhere in the last few seconds I have found a speech and now I am out of words, now my brain catches up with my mouth and I don't know what to say anymore. 

"Please don't worry too much. And know that I will always be there if you need someone to talk to." 

A tiny smile appears on Hidges' face, and I feel a bit calmer. He will take my advice seriously. Now I am the one who has to follow her own words. 


End file.
